


Our Horror Story of a Fairytale

by GraySonOfGotham



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Discrimination, Enemies to Lovers, Fairytales freeform, First Kiss, Flirty joker, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happily Ever After, Humor, Humorous Ending, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Princesses, Rapunzel Elements, Snow White Elements, Temporary Character Death, True Love's Kiss, fairytales - Freeform, jack and the beanstalk, knights in shining armor, reluctant partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-05-18 07:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14848790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraySonOfGotham/pseuds/GraySonOfGotham
Summary: In the world of dragons, giants, and princesses, Joker has the upper hand (until he doesn't).Mostly because Bats knows jack shit about fairy tales and happily ever afters.





	1. Once Upon A Time

Bruce shoved Joker against a table, his back cracking against the edge. Glass bottles smashed to the ground. Joker laughed wildly, grabbing ring stand and swinging at Bruce’s head. It hit his jaw, and Bruce grunted.

Joker slid out of his hand and turned, swinging the ring stand again. Bruce caught the stand and jerked it out of Joker’s hands, throwing it across the room. It crashed into a cabinet of chemicals, breaking the glass and more beakers and bottles fell to the ground.

The liquids pooled together, seeping towards the dead body half hidden behind lab table, lying in a puddle of blood.

The liquids touched the body and a strange hissing filled the air, soon followed by the smell of burning flesh.

The scent made Bruce’s blood boil. He flipped Joker over his shoulder, slamming him into the ground. Joker groaned, but then he quickly started laughing.

“There’s nothing you can do now, Batsy,” Joker said. “He’s dead as your sense of humor!”

Bruce kicked him across the floor, sending him crashing into a machine in the corner of the lab. The glass broke, and his hand knocked into the lever. The machine turned on.

Joker slowly started to stand. He spat blood on the ground and grinned devilishly at Bruce. He crooked a finger at him, motioning closer.

Bruce stomped over, throwing a punch at the smug face. Joker kneed Bruce between the legs, and even with the protective armor, it hurt. Bruce keeled forward a bit, pushing Joker backwards and into the machine.

It lit up upon sensing a presence, and Joker started to fall backwards into the bright light. His eyes went wide for a moment, and Bruce reached out after him, grabbing Joker’s wrist.

He was tugged off balance and he stumbled into the machine and the bright light.

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut against the harsh light.

When he opened his eyes again, he was outside. He was lying on a small dirt path, and Joker was lying on his back beside him. Bruce sat up and looked around.

They were in a forest with tall, green trees. Bright yellow sunlight filtered through the canopy. Two butterflies chased each other across the length of the path, from one side of the forest to the other.

Birds sang merrily, and nearby, a small brook trickled with clear water, surrounded by mossy rocks of all sizes.

Joker sat up, rubbing his head. He frowned. He wiped at his mouth, and it came away clean. “What the hell?” He asked aloud, looking around. He stood up, turning a full circle. “Huh.”

Then, he turned to Bruce, smiling. “Hey, Bats,” he said. He held out a hand. “Need a hand?”

Bruce ignored the offered gesture and stood up himself.

“So, where’d you bring us?” Joker asked, tucking his hands into his pockets. “S’nice. Not anywhere in Gotham, I’m assuming.”

Bruce took in the scenery. He grunted softly. “We fell through Dr. Highland’s most recent experiment. Designed it for his young daughter.”

Joker nodded slowly. “And why would a child want this? I mean, unless she likes having picnics in the forest.”

“She’s deaf.”

“Oh? And what does that have anything to do with this?” Joker asked, eyebrows raised.

“He designed it for his daughter to experience storybooks since he can’t read them to her, and she’s too young to know complex sign language yet,” Bruce said, still taking in the detail and the amazing realness of it all. “It’s still in the beginning stages, so there were supposed to be a lot of glitches and issues.”

“It all seems pretty good to me. So how do we get out?” Joker asked.

Bruce snorts. “Well, Dr. Highland could have gotten us out. But he’s _dead._ ”

“Oops, sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry when you’re not sorry, Joker. It means nothing to me. And now, he can’t complete this for his daughter, and his daughter will grow up without a father. You should be sorry to his family,” he said angrily.

Joker shrugged. “Can’t say I am. So are we stuck?”

Bruce wanted to punch him for being so apathetic. “We need to complete the story correctly.”

“That’s easy,” Joker said. “It’s for a little girl, right? So it’s got to have princesses. Just gotta find the princesses and save them or something. And for some reason, princesses are always in the forest.” He started to walk into the forest.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked, irritated.

“To find some princesses.”

Bruce glared at his disappearing back. “Fine,” he said. Joker could go do whatever he want. If he got stuck in here forever, well, good riddance. Bruce started down the small dirt path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey, I see you've stumbled upon my little story. While I thoroughly enjoyed writing my last Batjokes story, with the heartbreak, the angst, and the tears, welcome back to the world of happiness (mostly)! This story is... 93% fluff, I'd say. The other 7% is not necessarily tear jerking, more like tugging at your heartstrings, pining, feelings of slowly lost hope kind of angst.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this story, as I enjoyed writing it so much. Batjokes is my go to fluff ship, just like how JayDick is my go to angst. Sadly, nothing I write can be 100% fluff (but I recently kinda did???), so this is probably going to be the closest you can get.
> 
> Leave me a comment! <3


	2. The Village and the Inn

The minute Bruce lost sight of Joker, he felt an odd pulling sensation in his chest, and a moment later, Joker appeared beside him, stumbling forward and freezing.

His eyes narrowed, and he looked around, seeing Bruce. “What the fuck?” He asked. “I-” He looked at the forest, then the road, then Bruce. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Bruce said, frowning. “What did _you_ do?”

Joker waved his hands around, a bit flabbergasted. “I was walking, and I made it to the creek, and then _bam_ , I’m here. Not that I’m not glad to see your handsome face, but I’m kinda not glad to see your handsome face.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, but Joker could not see it anyway. He just continued frowning at Joker.

“I don’t think we can leave each other’s sight,” Bruce said slowly. “Dr. Highland designed this to allow multiple people to experience it at once. So he can keep an eye on his daughter, so we’re stuck.”

Joker sighed exaggeratedly. Then, he hooked an arm through Bruce’s. “Fine, then let’s go. Follow the brown dirt road?”

Bruce pulled his arm out of Joker’s grip. He started off down the road again. Joker huffed quietly before taking a couple quicker strides to catch up.

“Hey, if we’re going to be in each other’s company, you may as well talk to me,” Joker said. “I can’t stand being the only one talking.”

“I thought you liked to hear yourself talk,” Bruce muttered under his breath.

Joker gasped in delight. “Ooh, Bats! I’m flattered,” he said. “Hey, let’s play follow the leader! I’ll be the leader.” He skipped ahead, walking in front of Bruce.

Ten minutes later, they came to a split in the road. A crooked wooden sign pointed to all the possible directions they could go. The sign read: _Village, Forest, Castle,_ and _Swamp_.

“Let’s go to the swamp, Batsy!” Joker said, pointing down the road farthest to the right.

Bruce ignored him. “No, we’re going to the village.”

“No, I want to go to the swamp!” Joker stomped his foot like a petulant child.

“Then go to the swamp,” Bruce said. “I’m going to the village.”

He started down the farthest left path. Joker stared after him a moment, then called, “Fine, whoever gets pulled to the other person, we’ll follow that path!” Bruce did not answer.

Joker stuck his tongue out at Bruce’s back and started down the right road.

The moment they were out of each other’s sights, Bruce felt a tugging in his chest again, and he started to disappear. He reappeared a moment later, standing in front of the crooked wooden sign. Next to him stood the Joker.

“Well, fuck,” Joker said. “Okay, fine, we’ll go to the village then,” he said.

Bruce scoffed quietly and started back down towards the village again.

They mostly walked in silence, but sometimes, Joker would make a comment about something, or a random thought that popped in his mind. Even rarer did Bruce respond.

By the time they reached the village, night had nearly fallen. An old man feeding his goats pointed them towards the inn, giving them odd looks. Neither Bruce nor Joker acknowledged his weird stares.

They went into the inn, where then innkeeper looked momentarily stunned to see them. But he quickly put on a professional and friendly face. He called his wife down to show Bruce and Joker to a room.

The innkeeper’s wife appeared, wiping her hands on an apron. She apologized, saying they only had one room open. She also took in their look, and she decided they needed new clothes, saying they looked “absolutely atrocious and ridiculous in those”.

Joker took slight offense to it and was about to retort, but Bruce elbowed him hard in the ribs.

The innkeeper showed them to the room, upstairs and his wife brought them new clothes. She also gave each of them a burlap bag for their possessions. After the door closed behind them, Joker looked at the clothes in disgust.

“These are peasant clothes!” He said, outraged.

“You’ll wear them if you want to fit in here,” Bruce said. He had to admit though. They had no style.

“I don’t fit in anywhere, Bats.” But even as he said that, Joker unfolded the large blouse-like shirt and held it up to his chest. “Does this come in purple?”

Bruce detaches his cape, and started taking off pieces of his armor. He places them into the bag, piece by piece. As he took of his gauntlets, he realized that Joker had been watching him with a rather hungry expression. He stopped.

Joker smiled up at him, licking his red lips. “Sorry, Bats,” he said. Then he nodded at Bruce. “You can take off the cowl.” He covered his eyes. “I won’t peek, promise.”

Bruce ignored him, grabbing the clothes the innkeeper’s wife had given him. “I’m going to go take a bath.”

He slammed the door to the bathroom, and Joker’s laughter was muffled.

Bruce had to slowly pump bucket after bucket of hot water into the metal tub, waiting until it was the right temperature before stepping in. He took off the cowl and shook his hair out. He sighed and relaxed, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles.

He had already wasted an entire day in this stupid storybook world, and he still had no idea what the plot of the story was, therefore he had no idea what he had to do to get out.

After the water cools to just below body temperature, Bruce gets out. He dumps the large tub of water down the drain. Then, he got dressed in the new clothes, eyeing the cowl for a moment before deciding it was useless. He would draw more attention with it than without. He then ran his hand along his chin and stared at his reflection in the small mirror.

He could feel stubble. He could not see it yet, but it was going to be there the next morning. Bruce sighed and grabbed the cowl before stepping out of the warm bathroom.

Joker was sitting in front of the vanity, brushing his green hair and singing softly. His eyes met Bruce’s in the mirror, and Joker smiled. He set the brush down and grabbed his own stack of new clothes.

He stood and danced towards Bruce.

Bruce braced himself for a comment on his face or something, but Joker just twirled right by him, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, still singing.

Bruce stuffed the cowl into the bag with the rest of his armor and went to go stand by the open window. He sighed, staring out at the town center and the rest of the small village. It was completely dark now, and he could see the forest in the distance, treetops a little darker than the sky. Lights lit up each house, and it all seemed rather nice.

Then, there was a gentle knock at the door. Bruce hurried over, and pulled it open.

It was the innkeeper’s wife. She looked up at him surprised. Then she smiled. “Oh, you look handsome in those clothes,” she said. “Here, I brought you and your friend some food. It looked like you lads had a long day.” She handed him a large platter, piled high with slices of juicy meats, thick pieces of cheese, bread and crackers. There were also two bowls of hearty stew.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Bruce said. “I’m afraid we do not have the means to pay you.”

She laughed and shook her head. “It’s okay, my boy. My husband and I have more than enough. We like to do some nice things for good people like you.” She winked. “I’m always a bit soft for the blue-eyed boys like you,” she said. “Remind me of my son. He’s gone off to be a knight at the castle and hasn’t come back to visit in a while. So you and your friend have a good night, alright?”

Bruce smiled and took the platter from her. “Thank you.”

She leaned up and kissed both of his cheeks hard before walking down the hall and down the stairs again.

Bruce set the food down on the large bed. Just as he sat down, Joker stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only the large shirt.

His eyes landed on the food and he grinned happily. “Ooh, food!” He leapt onto the bed, almost spilling the stew, and Bruce glared at him for it. But Joker ignored him. He grabbed half a loaf of bread and ripped it with his hands. He dipped a piece in the stew and brought it to his mouth.

His eyes fluttered closed and he threw his head back, groaning. He chewed slowly, savoring it. He swallowed and his eyes opened again. “It’s amazing, Bats,” he said. He held out the loaf. “Try?”

Bruce shook his head slowly, and Joker shrugged. He ripped another piece off and dipped it into the bowl of stew again. Bruce watched him eat a few more bites with the same enthusiasm. He then took a cracker, a slice of cheese and one of the thinner slices of meat. He ate it slowly and daintily. Alfred had taught him manners, after all.

Meanwhile, Joker ate much quicker, devouring everything.

Bruce did not know if he should be impressed or revolted. He swiped a bit of jam on the dinner roll and took a small bite, swallowing before speaking. “Do you eat at all?” he asked.

Joker took a moment to chew quicker before swallowing. He had already gone through the half a loaf of bread, his bowl as well as Bruce’s bowl of stew, and several helping of crackers and cheese. He was working on slices of meat now.

“Not normally,” he said. “It just doesn’t fit into my schedule. Sometimes I eat at Arkham. Well, they threaten me with electroshock therapy if I don’t, and they usually hide drugs in the food, so. And if Harley’s with me, then she makes me eat.” He took a large bite of the meat, juice running down his chin.

Bruce had the strangest urge to pull a handkerchief out of his suit pocket and wipe Joker’s mouth, had he been wearing a suit. Instead, he grimaced and gestured to his own chin.

Joker wiped it with his sleeve and continued eating.

Bruce ate a couple more crackers with cheese, drinking the rich wine, and just watched Joker destroy the rest of the food.

When he was done, Bruce set the platter onto the vanity, and Joker flopped down on the bed, stretching.

He lay on his back and grinned at Bruce. “There’s more than enough room for us both, Batsy,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I won’t cuddle, if you don’t want me to.”

Bruce glared at him. Joker shrugged and slid under the covers, sliding to one edge of the bed. True to his word, he really did not take up much space. He also lay, back facing Bruce. He closed his eyes. “You might as well sleep,” he said quietly. “You’ll have to deal with me all day tomorrow.”

Joker falls asleep easily. It baffled Bruce how trusting Joker was. Bruce would not trust himself to fall asleep around Joker, but Joker was right. He would need all the energy he could get to make it through this thing.

He made sure Joker was really asleep before taking the other side of the bed, shifting all the way to the edge. He turn his back to Joker. It took him a long time to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually have another Batjokes story written after this one, but there is one I want to write. But it may take a while, so after this fic is done, there might be a short intermission period where I write something new.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment! <3


	3. Batsy and Joker vs The Giant at the Top of the Beanstalk

Bruce’s eyes snapped open the next morning to loud chatter outside the open window.

He rolled over, yawning. The other side of the bed was empty, and Joker was nowhere to be seen. Bruce sat up quickly, rushing to the window.

Outside his window, in the town square, gathered a large crowd of people, around a huge green pillar that definitely had not been there before. And at the base of it, stood a person with a head of green hair.

Bruce quickly tugged on his vest, not bothering to tie it, pulled the pants over his tights and stuffed the leather boots over his feet.

He ran down the stairs and into the town square. He looked up at the green pillar, sorry, _beanstalk_ , and had to shield his eyes. It went up past the clouds, disappearing into the sky.

He carefully pushed his way through the crowd until he reached Joker, who was also looking up. He turns and spots Bruce, smiling as Bruce walked over.

“Jack went up the beanstalk already. You missed it, sleepyhead,” Joker said.

“ _What_?” Bruce asked. “Who’s Jack?”

“Jack,” Joker said. “Jack and the beanstalk. That’s his mother over there.” He pointed at the hysterical woman, clutching the base of the giant beanstalk, looking up and screaming the name Jack over and over again.

Bruce looked up, and midway up the beanstalk was a small, dark speck.

“Is _that_ Jack?” Bruce asked, squinting again.

Joker giggled. “Yup,” he said, popping the _p._ “Traded the cow for some magic beans yesterday while we were frolicking in the forest. And threw it his window last night. And it grew and grew into a giant beanstalk. Leads up to the giant’s castle, where Jack will steal a whole bunch of gold and stuff.”

Bruce looked down at Joker sharply. “How do you know?”

Joker blinked innocently. “That’s the fairytales say.”

Bruce looked back up at the beanstalk. “Then we have to go up.”

Joker wrinkled his nose. “Why?”

“We need to follow the fairytale,” Bruce said. He started pushing his way back through the crowd. He ran into the inn, Joker following behind him.

“I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” Joker whined.

“There’s no breakfast,” Bruce said. He grabbed his bag and started vigorously lacing up his boots properly. “Come on.”

Joker sighed as Bruce swept out of the room again. He followed, pouting.

Bruce pushed through the crowd a third time, adjusting the bag he had tied on his back. He set a foot on the beanstalk and his hands reached for another thick vine. He tested his weight on it and started climbing.

Joker watched him for a moment before rolling his eyes and following.

“Bring my Jackie back, please!” Jack’s mother called.

“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce called back. He continued to climb up the beanstalk at a steady pace.

Once they were well above the village, Joker started complaining. “I’m not used to physical labor.”

“Shut up, Joker,” Bruce said.

“Bats!” Joker whined. “It’s getting cold up here. And even farther up, it’ll be wet. And the water will condense on the beanstalk and I’ll slip, fall, and die,” he said.

“Be quiet, Joker. Just climb.”

Joker huffed loudly, scaling up next to Bruce. “Batsy, I’m bored.”

Bruce ignored him.

Joker reached for a high branch and let his feet dangle off of the stalk. Then, he let go of another hand. “Let’s play Titanic,” he said as Bruce climbed past him.

When Bruce ignored him, Joker kept going after him. “Have you ever been this high up before? I don’t think the highest building in Gotham even goes this high. And we’re not even halfway there!”

A couple minute later, Joker said, “Shit, that Jack kid had stamina. I’m tired!”

Bruce still ignored him.

Joker frowned at him. “Stop ignoring me, Bats. I don’t like being ignored.”

“Then stop talking,” Bruce said. “Just climb.”

Joker then started doing tricks. He would hang upside down by his legs, or hanging by one arm, or letting himself slip a few times, only to catch himself a few feet down.

After the third time of doing the third trick, Bruce’s heart could not take the momentary shock anymore.

“Stop it,” Bruce hissed at him. “You might actually fall.”

Joker grinned at him. “Aw, Bats, worrying your little bat head over me? It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.”

They finally reached the top, and the ground was no longer in sight. And as Joker said, there was a giant house in front of them. They were the size of small beetles in comparison to the house.

The door was open just enough for them to slip through. The door was so thick Bruce’s fingertips barely brushed each end.

Inside the house, two loud voices were arguing back and forth.

One was a deep, booming voice that made Bruce’s ears hurt. The second was just a bit higher, but the same volume. Bruce realized that it was a giant and a giantess.

The giant insisted that he smell humans, but the giantess denied it and gave the giant a swimming pool sized bowl of porridge to eat.

Bruce dragged Joker behind a basket full of golden eggs the size of large watermelons.

They poked their heads out of the side of the basket to watch the giant. Bruce’s eyes scanned the rest of the huge room. Where was Jack?

Bruce saw him hiding on the table, behind the giant sugar bowl. Jack did not see them, and he was staring at the giant.

Bruce saw that the giant was counting gold coins. Then, on one side, a harp was playing the most beautiful music Bruce had ever heard. And a large goose sat by the harp sleeping. In the giant’s other hand, he toyed with a golden key.

Soon, the harp’s music put the giant to sleep. He fell forward into his arms. The coins slipped from his fingers, but the key stayed. At that moment, Jack darted forward and started collecting the coins. He several of the large gold coins into a sack. Then, he strapped it to his back and slid down the leg of the table and ran quickly towards the door.

Bruce turned to Joker, only to find him gone. Bruce looked around wildly. Then, he saw the shock of green hair, on the table, approaching the sleeping giant. Bruce’s eyes widened and he started gesturing wildly. Joker did not see him.

Joker’s eyes were pinned on the key in the giant’s hand. He grabbed the key and tugged. It did not budge. Joker pulled harder, his face contorting in effort. Slowly, the key slipped from the giant’s fingers. Joker flew backwards and landed on his ass, key in his arms. He slipped his arm through the hole of the key and ran towards the edge of the table.

As he slid down the table leg, the giant stirred. He sat up, blearily rubbing his eyes. Bruce’s heart pounded loudly. Joker landed on the ground and started running back towards Bruce, grinning and mouthing something.

Behind him, the giant’s eyes landed on him. Then, he saw the missing key and he roared loudly. He stood up, knocking the giant chair backwards. Bruce felt the ground shake.

The giant’s foot came down, way too close to where Joker was.

“Run!” Joker screamed, and Bruce did not need to be told twice.

They ran out of the house, slipping past the thick door and towards the beanstalk. Behind them, the door was pulled open, and the giant stomped out, still cursing and bellowing about his plans to eat them.

Joker and Bruce scrambled down the beanstalk as quickly as they could. Bruce’s fingers were cold and he could barely feel them. His heart pounded crazy fast. Several times, he nearly slipped. Below him, Joker kept yelling, “Hurry up! Hurry up!”

Then, the beanstalk shook as the giant started down after them.

Bruce had to hang on as tightly as possible, but still keep moving down. When they finally cleared the clouds, Bruce dared to look down for a moment.

Jack was nearly to the bottom, and he had noticed the approaching giant. Joker kept climbing, and so did Bruce. But the giant was a lot faster than they were, and it was catching up slowly.

Jack reached the ground when Bruce and Joker were about halfway down the beanstalk, but still way too high up. Then, tremors started coming _up_ the beanstalk.

“What’s happening?” Bruce yelled.

Joker froze for a moment as he looked down. “He’s cutting it down!”

“What?! Fuck!” Bruce cursed. He looked up. The giant was way too close. There was no way they would make it to the ground before the giant or before Jack finished cutting the beanstalk down.

He had a crazy idea. He pulled the bag off his back, keeping his eyes on the approaching giant the whole time as he worked. He quickly tugged the cape out of the bag. One of the gauntlets and the cowl came whipping out as well, flying off in the wind.

But Bruce did not care. He grabbed the cape with his teeth, putting the bag back on his back and let go of the beanstalk just as the giant’s giant boot came down on where his hand was.

It was free fall for ten feet. Then, he stretched his hand out, and grabbed a vine, catching himself right next to Joker. He could not believe he just did that. Joker looked at him, wide eyed. Bruce could not help but grin, with the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the fact that he rendered Joker speechless.

“Grab onto me,” he yelled. Joker looked up for a moment before nodding and hooking his arms around Bruce’s neck. “Hold on,” Bruce murmured into his ear before jumping.

He leapt off of the beanstalk, just as it started leaning, and the giant swiped at them, roaring furiously. But they were just out of reach.

It took Bruce a moment to get control of the cape, especially with the extra added weight.

But he managed to steady them, and they glided downwards, fast.

They approached the ground way too fast, crashing into a cornfield and rolling several times. Joker let go of Bruce, and Bruce went rolling even further.

When he finally stopped, he was wrapped up in the cape, corn poking into his back, and his neck hurt. He groaned, but the groan quickly turned into a laugh, his entire body shaking with the sound.

He had to admit, that was one of the most exhilarating and reckless things he had ever done. Soon, his laughter was joined by another voice, higher and more giggly.

Bruce sat up, rolling his neck and taking the cape off. Joker stood up five feet away, shaking corn kernels out of his hair. He walked over, offering a hand out to Bruce.

Bruce eyed it for a moment. Then he looked up at Joker, who grinned down at him. Bruce reached up, clasping Joker’s hand in his and let the clown pull him to his feet.

“That was fun,” Joker commented.

Bruce wanted to get angry and chide him for going after the stupid key and nearly getting them killed. But he was still riding the high, so he just smiled until his cheeks hurt.

He just shook his head and grabbed Joker’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s get back to the village.”


	4. The Privileged Don't Understand

“Oh, do be safe, boys,” the innkeeper’s wife said, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Will do, ma’am,” Bruce said politely.

“And if you’re ever back in town,” the innkeeper added. “Do come be and say hello. Heroes, you are.” He paused. “Say, where are you lads headed next?”

Bruce looked at Joker, who shrugged.

“Er, on, I guess,” Bruce said.

The innkeeper smiled. “If you have nowhere specific to go, the castle is always in need of heroes of some sort. Maybe you should head there. It’s just about a day’s walk along the main road.”

“Oh, thank you,” Bruce said. “We will go there, then.”

They started down the road, away from the town, and the entirety of the townspeople gathered at the edge of town to wave them off. Joker waved back to them cheerfully, and Bruce was a little more modest and a bit embarrassed about it. He was not used to people calling him a hero when he was not in the bat suit. On top of that, it was not common people called the Bat a hero to his face.

Once they were out of earshot of the townsfolk, Joker turned to Bruce, grinning widely. His makeup had washed off last night. Bruce had thought his scars would be more prominent without the bright red lipstick hiding it, but it really was not. It was the same pale white as the rest of his skin, just uneven, rugged scar tissue.

“So,” Joker said. “Want to ask how I feel about being called a hero?”

“You’re not a hero, Joker,” Bruce said half-heartedly. “It’s your fault we nearly died and gotten Jack killed at the same time.”

Joker giggled. “But they think we’re heroes for luring the giant down and killing it.”

“They don’t know the whole story.”

“So they think I’m a hero! I’ll admit, it’s fun, but I prefer the chase. It’s a lot more _exhilarating_ to run when someone’s chasing you. You know what I mean?”

“No.”

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy running for your life from that giant,” Joker said, seeing right through the lie. “You’re starting to smile just thinking about it!” He laughed and slung his arm around Bruce’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Bats. It was a great bonding experience. I understand you better, and you understand me better now.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and shrugged Joker’s arm off. “Why do you still call me that? You know very well who I am.”

“’Course I do, Brucie. Your pretty face is pasted over every magazine and newspaper up and down the East Coast!” Joker said. “But Bruce Wayne doesn’t chase the Joker around Gotham. Batman does, so with me, you’ll always be Batsy.”

“Ah.” It did kind of make sense. But it did make Bruce slightly uncomfortable that he was being referred to Batman while not in the costume.

“What, I thought you _liked_ when I called you Batsy!”

“Eh, it makes me sound soft and weak, honestly,” Bruce admitted.

Joker gasped, offended. “But it’s my nickname for you! Saying _Batman_ every time is just too… formal. No, Batsy’s much more intimate.”

“Right, intimate.”

“You love it. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Mm, don’t think I do.”

“At least spare my feelings, Bats,” Joker said. “So cold and to the point.”

“Oh, please,” Bruce snorted. “Like I could ever hurt your feelings.”

Joker giggled. “I guess that’s true. I treasure every word you say to me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you prefer honey? Sugar? Love? Baby?”

“Stick with Batsy.”

“See? I knew you’d come around,” Joker said gleefully.

The almost friendly, passive-aggressive banter continued all day until they reached the castle village in the late afternoon.

The minute the stepped foot into the village, the easy mood disappeared. Everyone in the castle village was dressed in black, or in darker colors.

As they walked through the village, they were given angry, slightly offended looks. Bruce was confused. Had someone died?

He approached an old woman. “Excuse me, madam,” he said politely. “What is happening? Why is everyone in mourning?”

The old lady looked up from hanging her laundry. She looked Bruce up and down, her lips pressed into a tight line. She then looked at Joker, and her eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“We traveled from another land, rather far away. A small town you probably have not heard of. But when we passed by the neighboring town, they suggested we come to the castle. Something about the castle needing heroes.”

The old lady looked at Bruce for a moment longer. “I suppose you might be able to help.” She set her laundry down. “You see, a few weeks ago, our two princesses had been kidnapped. Many princes and knights have searched for them but failed. The king and queen are offering a lot of money, land, and a princess’ hand in marriage, should someone succeed, and assuming they are not dead yet.”

“Oh.” Bruce did not conceal his surprise. He was not interested in any of that. He just wanted to go home. “That’s nice, I suppose. Would you mind pointing us towards the castle doors?”

The old lady looked over him once more before pointing up the street. “Just follow the main road up.”

And so they walked to the doors of the castle, and the guards looked at them, standing up a little straighter.

“What is your business at the castle?” called one guard.

“We are here to help find the princesses,” Bruce said.

The guards looked him up and down before nodding. They opened the doors, and gestured Bruce and Joker through the doors.

“Ooh, fancy,” Joker said quietly, looking at the fancy castle interior.

The guard gestured for them to stop a moment. “We will tell the king and queen.”

He disappeared into the throne room while Bruce and Joker waited with the second guard in the foyer.

“So do you really think this will work? Just… save the princesses?” Bruce asked dubiously.

Joker shrugged. “Yeah. Pretty much. That’s what most fairytales are like.”

Bruce frowned for a moment. Then, he asked, “Why _did_ you go for that golden key, anyway?”

“Because in the original fairy tale, Jack stole three things from the giant: gold coins, the goose that laid golden eggs, and the golden harp. There was never any mention of a key. So I assumed it might be important. After all, why change a detail unless it’s important later on?”

“And how do you know so much about fairytales?” Bruce could not help but ask.

Joker laughed. “I’ve read them many times. There are only so many books in Arkham that aren’t covered in puke and blood. Tattered old thing it is, but I kept it hidden in one of the stairwells.”

Just then, the door to the throne room opened, and the guard gestured them inside. They followed the guard inside, and stood before the king and the queen, who were wearing black clothes.

The queen gave them a sharp expectant look, and Joker immediately knelt, while Bruce stared on, a bit clueless. He quickly followed Joker’s lead, however.

“Rise,” the king said. “Sir Merlot said you have come to try and find our princesses.”

“Yes, er, Your Majesty,” Bruce said. He gave Joker a sideways glance, not at all used to the medieval ways.

The king nodded and smiled. “Yes, you seem fit to be a knight. What be your name, and where have you come from? Your ways of speech do sound like you are from afar.”

“Yes, we came from a neighboring kingdom, Your Majesty. A small town in the mountains you may have never heard of,” Joker said. He seemed really good at spinning elaborate lies. “We have walked a fortnight before coming here, in search of a quest. My good friend’s name is Bruce, and I’m John, Your Majesty.”

The king looked at him, eyebrows rising a bit, as if surprised to see him there. “Oh, I see,” the king said. “Well, welcome to the castle. Tonight, we will have feast! And tomorrow, at daybreak, you will set off to find my daughters.”

The king rose, and the queen stood up as well. “Come along, Sir Bruce. We will fit you with better clothes, and a room in the castle. Will your servant be staying with you tonight?”

Bruce frowned. “Servant?”

The king nodded at Joker. “Your servant. I suppose your kingdom has less strict rules, since you allowed your servant to speak for you. Here, we would have had his head.”

Joker’s eyebrows drew together and his lips thinned, but he said nothing.

“No, J-John is my friend,” Bruce said. “He will be accompanying me on my quest.”

“Oh?” The king’s eyebrows shot up. “Well then,” he said a bit more dryly. “We shall prepare another room for him.” He waved for a servant to do so. Then, he gestured to the other servants. “They will show you to your rooms, and allow yourselves to settle in. The feast will commence in two hours.”

The king turned and started to leave, and the queen gave Joker one last distasteful look before leaving as well. Joker stuck his tongue out at her back, before turning on his heels and following the servants down the hall. Bruce frowned uneasily but followed as well.

Bruce was shown into the a large, very lavishly furnished room. It had a scarlet and gold color theme. The rug was thick and fluffy, the large window had thick, dark red curtains that were drawn back and held by heavy gold cords. A huge bed, nearly bigger than the one Bruce had at the manor, with way too many pillows stood on one side of the room. A huge wardrobe and a large mirror on the other side of the room. There was also a desk and a bookshelf.

“You got a nice room,” Joker mused. “Pity it’s not black,” he joked.

Bruce ignored him. The servant opened the huge wardrobe and gestured to it. “You are free to wear anything in here,” he said. “You will be expected to dress nicely for the feast. And just ring this should you need assistance at any time,” he explained.

“Thank you,” Bruce said, feeling overwhelmed. Sure, he had a butler, but Alfred definitely never did everything for him, nor was he on Bruce’s every beck and call. In fact, Bruce felt kind of useless.

Joker seemed to enjoy the attention and seemed very comfortable with his new room across the hall from Bruce’s.

He already started pulling out lavish, rich purple tunic and matching tights. He turned and grinned at Bruce across the hall. “Whatcha think, Bats?” He called.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You look ridiculous.”

“More than in this tissue paper shirt?” Joker pulled at the shirt he was currently wearing.

“Yes.”

“Well, we need to dress up for dinner, Batsy, so we gotta make do.” Then, he turned his attention back to the wardrobe. “Ooh! We should match! But I look dreadful in black, so you’ll need to compromise with purple, or maybe green.” He pulled out a dark green tunic. “Which one do you think I should wear?”

Bruce wrinkled his nose. He did not like any of them. “Neither.”

Joker pouted. He walked to his door and kicked it shut. Bruce rolled his eyes and shut his own door. He spotted the bathroom. He pushed the door open. It was spacious and tiled inside, but it still looked like the bathroom in the inn. A hole with a cover for the toilet and a large, marble bathtub.

Bruce was feeling hot and sticky after his walk all day, so he decided a bath would not hurt. He had two hours after all. He found the water pump and a large wooden bucket. He slowly filled the bath with steaming water and settled in.

He let his head drape over the edge of the tub and his eyes slid closed. Without meaning to, he drifted off to sleep.

Bruce awoke to loud laughter. He sat up, sloshing water everywhere.

Joker stood in the doorway of the bathroom, back to Bruce, and covering his eyes, laughing.

“Oops,” Joker said. “Didn’t mean to peek, but you left the door wide open.”

Bruce blushed lightly. He had just fallen asleep in the bathtub, and his fingers and toes were all pruney now, and his mortal enemy just saw him naked.

“Just came in to tell you we need to be heading down to the feast now,” Joker said between giggles. “I’ll leave you alone now to get dressed. After all, you _are_ a big boy,” he said, looking over his shoulder and throwing Bruce a wink. Then, he darted out of the room, his laughter the only thing he left behind.

Bruce stepped out of the bath, nearly slipping on the tiled floor and grabbed a towel. He ran to the wardrobe, pulling it open. It was overflowing with garments similar to the kinds Joker had been looking at earlier.

Bruce reached in and pulled out a dark blue tunic with light blue-silver accents and designs. It also came with matching tights. Bruce winced at it, but started tugging it on.

Bruce found Joker waiting outside his door, slow dancing with an invisible partner and humming his own tune to dance to. He spotted Bruce and smiled flirtingly.

“Hey, Batsy,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Lookin’ handsome.”

Bruce tried to ignore the slight tingly feeling in his cheeks accompanied by the light fluttering of his stomach. But he gave Joker an unamused look. Then, he glanced up and down the hall. “Which way?”

Joker pointed the way they came. “I asked a servant.”

Bruce started up the hallway, and Joker fell into step beside him.

“Hey, I don’t know if you heard, but I said, I _asked._ Aren’t you proud, Bats? I’m making progress with all the time I’ve spent with you! I’m starting to be _polite_! And, and, _and_ , the thought of threatening the servant’s life for answers did not even cross my mind!” He cackled. “Looks like I would have to make up for it once we’re back in Gotham. But don’t worry, I’ll give you… hm, a week, to rest up. But that’s it.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as they approached the dining room. Quiet chatter could be heard from within.

Before walking through the door, Joker stopped Bruce. He held out his arm. “Walk me in?”

Bruce gave him a half-annoyed look and ignored his arm, walking into the large dining room without Joker, leaving him to hurry after him.

Dinner was not as bad as Bruce thought. The king and queen did not speak much, and neither did Joker, surprisingly. After they finished the very delicious food, they got ready for bed.

Joker said few words to Bruce throughout this time. But right before Bruce climbed into the ridiculously large bed, Joker knocked on his door.

Bruce opened it to find Joker there, smiling at him. Joker licked at his lips, running his tongue over the edges of his scars. “Hey, Bats,” he said quietly. “I need a favor…”

Bruce’s eyebrows rose.

Joker pulled out the golden key from within his borrowed nightgown-y clothes. He handed it to Bruce, who just stared at it blankly.

“What do you want me to do with it?” Bruce asked, confusion coloring his voice.

Joker thrust it Bruce a little urgently. “Just take it. Keep it safe.”

Bruce frowned and did not make a move to take the key. “Is this a joke? Because I don’t get it? Why do I need to keep it safe? It’s your key.”

Joker huffed unhappily. “Just- Just do it, okay? Trust me on this. You should probably have the key.” He stared forlornly at a spot behind Bruce.

“What are you talking about?” Bruce asked, feeling frustrated. “Just tell me what’s going on!”

“Nothing!” Joker said. “Nothing yet. I’m just saying, the key will be important in the future. I have this feeling. You should keep it with you.”

“Why can’t you hold on to it?”

“Would you really trust me with something that could be our only means of escape from this twisted world?” Joker asked, his voice flat.

“Well, you want to get out of here as much as I do,” Bruce said, still not understanding. “You wouldn’t do anything to purposely lose it. So why do I need to keep it safe? Unless you think something’s going to happen to you…?” Bruce’s eyes widened a little.

Joker glared at him. “Just take the damn key!” He snapped, throwing the gold object at Bruce and spinning on his heels, slamming the door on himself.

Bruce blinked at the closed door, the gold key in his hand. “Odd,” he said to himself before tucking the kept into his bag.

~

They were roused early the next morning.

Bruce was given some food for the road, but Joker was ignored while they were prepared for their journey.

The king and queen presented Bruce with a shining set of armor, which Bruce thought was a bit much and a little ridiculous looking, but he accepted it graciously. He was also given a sword, silver and quick, its handle inlaid with rubies and gold. Joker’s armor on the other hand, was not shined a little creaky, and his sword was a bit unbalanced.

While he was more worried about Joker being handed a large knife, he noticed that the sword was dull, its metal starting to rust. Joker seemed to notice the same thing.

He smiled happily at the king and queen. “Thank you,” he said. “But I don’t need a sword.” He handed the sword back to a servant. “My good friend will protect me, should I be in peril.” He winked at Bruce, who rolled his eyes.

The king and queen looked between them, their eyes narrowing a little.

Their horses were then brought out. Bruce was immediately handed the pure white horse, saddled with leather bags filled with maps, food, and some first aid things. Joker’s horse was a muddy brown, and it was missing an eye. Bruce noticed that the horse walked with a slight limp, and should not be used to travel long distances. But Joker said nothing.

The stable boy helped Bruce onto his horse first, holding it for him while Bruce mounted gracefully. Bruce was not great at riding horses, but he had been on quite a few equestrian dates, as horse riding was quite popular among Gotham’s elite women.

When the stable boy went to hold the horse for Joker, he whispered something to the horse. The horse shifted nervously, rearing a little and tried pulling away from the boy. Joker was shaken off, landing on his ass in a pile of ill fit metal armor.

Bruce glared at the boy, who snickered. He got off his own horse and held a hand out to Joker, pulling him up. He shooed the stable boy away and held the horse instead, while Joker mounted. Then, he mounted his own horse, immediately spurring it to go.

Joker followed obediently behind him. Bruce said nothing as they rode away from the castle at a medium paced walk. Joker hummed and sang quietly, riding besides and slightly behind Bruce.

Soon, the castle was behind them, disappearing over the horizon, and they entered the forest again. Bruce was in a sour mood. He tolerated Joker’s quiet, nonsensical singing all morning, and when they finally stopped by the stream for lunch, he had had enough.

Joker had taken off his armor, tossing all the pieces in a haphazard pile by a bunch of mossy rocks. He rolled up the legs of his pants and dipped his pale feet in the stream. A bit farther upstream, the horses were eating plants and drinking water, taking a short break.

Joker sighed contently, leaning backwards, and lying down on the ground. He closed his eyes and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Bruce frowned at him. He tore the bread he was eating up into smaller and smaller pieces. “Why aren’t you upset?” he finally asked.

Joker cracked an eye open, looking at Bruce like he was surprised Bruce was talking to him. “Me?”

“Yes,” Bruce said irritated. “They were clearly treating you unfairly. Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? I know you’re more than capable.”

Joker laughed quietly, closing his eye again and sighed loudly. “Oh, Bats, the things you don’t know with your privileged life.”

“I know discrimination when I see it.”

“I’m used to it, so it’s no big deal really.”

Bruce feels more frustrated. He throws the tiny pieces of bread onto the ground. “They have no reason to judge you. Technically you’ve done nothing wrong here.”

Joker made an amused sound. “They’re judging because I look different, Batsy. Because I have green hair, and white skin, and that scarred smile stretching from ear to ear.” The next sound he made sounded less amused and a bit more cruel. “But you wouldn’t know.” He went silent for a few moments. Then, he sat up and pulled his feet out of the stream. “We should probably get going. We’ve wasted enough time, as is.”


	5. I'd Save You Any Day

Joker is unusually quiet for the rest of the day. They continue deeper into the forest, assuming the path would eventually lead them in the right direction. It was a magical forest after all, like in all fairytales.

But Joker’s silence made Bruce a bit uneasy. He kept casting glances at the clown, only to find Joker staring straight ahead, never catching his eyes like he usually would. There were no sarcastic comments, no laughter, no singing.

When night falls, they were still in the forest. Bruce builds a fire, and they take shelter between a group of larger boulders.

The horses were tethered to a tree, and Bruce sat, leaning against a rock, his armor shed and tossed aside, like Joker’s.

Joker sits by the fire, his legs tucked up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his knees, and his chin resting on them. He stared into the flames, never saying a word. Small tremors shook his body, and Bruce realized he was shivering.

He went over to his horse’s saddlebag and pulled out some food as well as his cape. He walked back and silently handed the cape to Joker.

Joker stared up at the cape for a brief moment before taking it. “Thanks,” he said quietly. Nothing else. Bruce watched as Joker draped it over himself, the fabric nearly hiding him completely.

Bruce sat down again, across from Joker, the fire between them. He started splitting the food.

“So,” he said. “What do you think concludes this fairytale?”

Joker was quiet for a while. “Saving those princesses, I suppose,” he mumbled.

“Is that how all fairytales end?”

“Most.”

Bruce passed pieces of bread, some dried food and meat, and a chunk of cheese to Joker, who took it without a word. They ate in silence, Bruce watching Joker the entire time.

After finishing his modest share, Joker readjusted the cape around his shoulders, turned away from Bruce and lay on the ground. He put an arm under his head, and went to sleep.

It looked very uncomfortable, and Bruce could easily tell that he was not asleep, but he decided to leave Joker alone. Bruce watched Joker’s thin frame rise and fall gently with each breath, wrapped up completely in the cape. Bruce was only a tiny bit taller than Joker, but in the way he was curled up, Joker seemed to disappear in the inky cape.

Bruce leaned against the mossy rock, letting his eyes close. He found it hard to fall asleep, but even so, he finally drifted off.

He woke up to singing.

Bruce opened his eyes, and saw Joker moving around their little campsite, the cape tied around his neck. Bruce groaned quietly. He had fallen asleep in an odd position, and it kind of hurt now. Joker noticed that he was awake and grinned at him.

“Morning, Bats!” Joker said cheerfully. He reached behind him and handed Bruce some food. “I made breakfast.”

Bruce rolled his neck a couple times, staring dubiously at the food Joker gave him.

“It’s not poisoned. Haven’t had time to get my hands on any, yet,” Joker said, rolling his eyes. “Hurry up and eat. We need to go.”

“I’m wasn’t wondering if it was poisoned,” Bruce said. He slowly took the smoking, brunt bread and the apple. “I was wondering why you… burnt my bread.”

Joker stopped his prancing for a moment, the cape surrounding him like a cloak. “I didn’t _mean_ to,” he said, sounding offended. “I just don’t have much experience with cooking food over an open fire.”

Bruce snorted. “I thought you roasted marshmallows over the burning bodies of your enemies,” he said. He bit into the apple instead.

“Ew! That’s disgusting,” Joker said, making a revolted face. “I mean, hot dogs, I can kind of understand. But _marshmallows_? They give you cavities, Batsy. Don’t eat them, don’t trust them.”

Bruce fought the urge to laugh. “I thought you liked sweets?”

“No! I’m offended! Do you know nothing about me? I despise sweets. They rot your teeth, and they make children’s fingers sticky. But chocolate is an exception.” Joker sighed happily. “I love chocolate.”

“You’re so strange.”

“Why, thank you, Batsy!” Joker said. As Bruce finished his apple, Joker snatched the core from his hand and tossed it behind him. “C’mon, time to get on the road! We’ve got two whiny princesses to save!”

Joker tried to pull Bruce up, but he only succeeded in dragging Bruce forward a bit. “Stand up!”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Bruce asked, not moving. “Yesterday, you wouldn’t talk to me at all, and today you’re suddenly so willing to go save someone?”

“I’m not doing for the princesses, silly,” Joker said. He stamped out the fire. Bruce only felt slightly annoyed that he used the cape. “I’m doing it to save _us_.”

“To save… us.”

“Of course! You and me, me and you. The sooner I save us, the sooner we can get back to Gotham, and then we’ll get back to our nighttime activities,” Joker said with a giggle. “Why do you look so surprised, Bats? You don’t think I’d save you? Let me tell you a little secret. I’d pick you over anyone any day.”

“Really.”

“Mhm. Over Harley, over Eddie, over Johnny, over myself, even,” Joker said as he mounted his horse.

Bruce stood and brushed himself off. He tried to ignore the slightly fluttery feeling. He walked over to his own horse, getting on, and taking the reins from Joker with slight apprehension.

“Lead the way!” Joker said with a bright smile. Bruce gave him a slightly odd look, but he directed his horse back onto the path, continuing into the forest.

Joker is back to his cheerful, singing and humming mood. Bruce found that he did not mind so much anymore. Better singing and humming than silence. In fact, Joker’s voice did not make his blood boil anymore. It was kind of soothing, actually. Bruce found himself unconsciously swaying to the song, or tapping to the beat. He immediately stopped once he caught himself.

Around mid-morning, they arrive at a cave. The entrance had been cleverly hidden, piled high with vines and ferns, but Bruce noticed that the plants in front of the cave were a bit trampled.

They led the horses through the veil of plants, walking towards the light. When they came out into a large clearing, the first thing Bruce saw was the tall tower in the center.

Joker gasped behind him. “Ooh! It’s Rapunzel! My favorite!”

“ _Rapunzel_ is your favorite fairytale?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah!” Joker said. “The _good_ version, though. Tragic.”

Bruce snorted and turned his attention back to the tower. “It’s the one with the girl with the long hair, right? And the prince climbed up her hair?”

“Yeup,” Joker said. “But I don’t think that part is necessary. See? There’s a door.”

They left their horses to graze and walked towards the small door at the base of the tower. The tower was actually very tall. How anyone built a tower in the middle of the forest, Bruce knew not.

“It’s locked,” he said, trying the door.

Joker rolled his eyes. “Of course it would be. But we have the key.”

“We do?”

“The gold key, Bats. I thought you were a detective.”

“Yeah, I use logic, not- not fairytale magic.” Still, Bruce pulled the key out of his bag. It was huge. “There’s no way that’s fitting in _there_.”

Joker rolled his eyes. “Just try it.”

Bruce glared at him. “You sound so sure. The key’s not just going to shrink if I try it, Joker.”

“Bats.”

Bruce sighed in frustration. He poked the key at the keyhole a couple times. Nothing happened. “See? It’s-” Just as he started to speak, the key shrank in his hand. He closed his mouth and stared at the normal sized key. “What the fuck?”

“Told you,” Joker said, sounding very pleased. “Fairytale magic.”

“Shut up,” Bruce grumbled. He pulled the door open a little harder than he needed to and stomped inside. He was met with a tall, winding staircase that he assumed led to the top of the tower. He started to climb.

“Also,” Joker said, following behind him. “Watch out for an evil witch of some kind. The witch blinds the prince in Rapunzel’s story, so watch out for her.”

 Bruce reaches the top of the tower before Joker does, and he rests his hand on the door. He lays his hand on his sword, just in case he needed to use it.

He wretched the door open, and was met with a crone. She had her hands raised, her old, crooked fingers snapped, and Bruce crumpled to the ground. Joker pinned himself against the wall of the tower. He heard the witch cackle.

“Looks like another one bites the dust, dearies,” the witch sneered. She kicked Bruce, who went tumbling down the stairs, and Joker heard wailing inside the room. The door was slammed shut again, and Joker quickly ran over to Bruce.

He put a hand on either side of Bruce’s face, squeezing his cheeks together. “Bats?” he whispered urgently. “Hey, Bats, wake up!”

Bruce did not move.

Joker pressed his ear against Bruce’s chest, and let out a sigh of relief. “Just taking a nap. It’s okay. You deserve it. I’ll deal with the bitch.”

Joker carefully sat Bruce on the stairs, leaning his head against the wall. Then, he took Bruce’s sword out of its scabbard and approached the door. He pushed it open, and as he expected, the witch was taken by surprise.

She had been cornering two girls, who were clutching each other and backing up into a corner. At the sound of the door flying open, the crone whirled around.

She hissed and raised her hands. “Another one? You don’t look like a knight or a prince. Who are you?”

Joker laughed. The witch seemed taken aback by the high pitched, almost uncontrollable giggling. Joker took a moment to pretend to wipe his eyes. “Ah, no dearie,” he said. The witch blinked at him in surprise at the term of endearment. “I’m no prince, and even farther from a knight. But all you need to know if that I’m here to kill you.”

The witch’s eyes narrowed. “ _You_ kill me?” She wheezed a laugh. Joker frowned. “With what? That little stick of metal?” She cackled again.

Joker looked down at the sword. “Actually, yes,” he said. “The only reason I’m alive is because my enemies underestimate me, honey.”

The witch’s lip curled into a sneer. “Enough talking!” she snapped. She raised her hands again. “For your words, prepare to _die_.”

Red mist formed around her hands and she pushed it at Joker. On instinct, Joker brought the sword up to parry. It bounced off and hit a nearby bookshelf. The entire shelf blew into smithereens.

“Wow,” Joker said, his eyes wide. “That was amazing,” he said. “You really should teach me that trick sometime! Imagine the look on Bats face!”

The witch growled. “Shut up!” She shot another blast of the red mist at him. Joker parried again, his face suddenly going cold. He rushed forward, catching the old witch by surprise. He pushed her against the wall, holding the sword to her neck.

“No one but the Bat can tell me to shut up,” he hissed in her face.

The witch’s eyes were wide.

Joker suddenly smiled. The witch looked terrified now. “Say night night.” Then, he pushed the blade of the sword through the witch’s neck, slicing off her head. The head rolled off of her neck, thumping to the ground and rolling to a stop at the princesses’ feet.

They screamed and ran out of the room.

Joker frowned after them. He shrugged, wiped the blade off on the bed before starting out of the room as well.

But Bruce appeared in the doorway. He had a frown on his face. The two princesses each clutched one of Bruce’s arms.

Bruce’s eyes zeroed in on the sword, still stained with bits of blood, then the bloody head of the witch.

“You _killed_ her?” he growled.

Joker grinned. “Sorry, habit.” He held the sword out to Bruce.

Bruce snatched it away, glaring at Joker the entire time. Finally, he turned away without a word, putting an arm around each of the princesses and leading them down the stairs.

Joker stared at his back, frowning. He had just saved his life, probably, and there was not even a word of thanks. And Bruce could barely stand to touch Joker, yet he immediately starts cuddling with two random girl who are probably are not even of age!

A quiet growl escaped from his throat. Even so, he stuffed his anger down and stomped down the stairs after them.

He saw that Bruce had helped the brown haired princess, who looked alarmingly familiar now that he was looking, onto his horse, and was currently helping the blonde princess, who was even _more_ familiar, onto Joker’s horse.

Joker approached them, and looked between the two princesses. They gave each other nervous looks and eyed Joker.

Joker opened his mouth to ask Bruce if they looked like anyone they knew.

“I know,” Bruce gritted out. “But they don’t know us. One of the flaws of Highland’s machine.”

Joker pressed his lips together tightly. Bruce mounted his horse behind the brown haired princess. It really irritated Joker that she looked like certain cat that rivaled Joker in stealing the Bat’s attention.

Bruce frowned at him from on top of his horse, his arms around the princess’s waist to hold the reins. “Let’s go, Joker.”

Joker looked at his horse and at the princess sitting there. He frowned at her. She also looked like Harley. But her hair was less white blonde, and more natural blonde. She did not have pale white skin like Joker. She looked like she did when she was a doctor at Arkham. She looked very nervous to have Joker frowning at her.

Finally, Joker swung himself onto the horse, settling behind the Harley look-alike.

Bruce urged his horse through the cave and back out into the forest. Joker followed silently behind him, still stewing in his anger.

They started back onto the path towards the castle.  Bruce cast sideways glances at Joker.

“What?” Joker finally snapped. “Stop glaring at me. If you’re going to say something, just say it.”

“I have nothing to say,” Bruce gritted out. They were riding side by side, and occasionally, Bruce’s leg would brush Joker’s. “You killed her.”

“She nearly killed you.”

“But she didn’t,” Bruce argued. “You can’t kill everyone to solve your problems, Joker. She’s human. Sure, she’s a bad person, but she did not deserve to die. You’d killed hundreds, and I haven’t killed you.”

“Maybe you should have,” Joker snapped. “Probably would have saved you a lot of time and energy!”

“That’s not the point,” Bruce growled. Neither noticed when they verged off of the main road onto a smaller, less traveled path. “I _don’t_ kill, unlike you. I don’t care if this is some stupid fairytale world that isn’t real. You can’t kill.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Batman,” Joker said. “I do whatever I fucking feel like, and if you have a problem with that, you know perfectly well how to end it all.” Joker looked around. They had entered a gorge. A single path ran along the side of the gorge, with a cliff above them, and an even steeper cliff below them. He looked behind them. The forest had completely disappeared. It was just more gorge. The faint roaring of a river could be heard somewhere below, in the darkness. “Now look where you’ve gotten us,” Joker complained. “Where to now?”

“Keep going,” Bruce said. “We’ll get back to the castle eventually.”

Joker snorted. “Yeah right, we will. We’ll get lost out here and it will be all your fault.”

“My fault?” Bruce grumbled. He would usually just let Joker ramble by himself, but he had a lot of pent up frustrations that he could not take out by punching Joker right now. Especially now that they were traveling a narrow path. Thankfully, the path was not so narrow. They could fit next to each other comfortably, making arguing easy. “You’re the one who killed the witch in the first place!”

“What does that have to do with us getting lost, _Bats_?” Joker hissed. The word bounced off of the gorge walls, echoing _bats… bats… bats…_ until it disappeared in a gentle whisper.

“Stop talking so loudly,” Bruce said.

Joker glared at him. “You don’t control me!” He yelled. The sound echoed through the gorge for much longer now. A few pebbles came falling down from above them, but nothing else.

This scared the blonde princess, and she grabbed Joker’s wrist tightly.

“Let go of me,” Joker snarled, roughly pulling his wrist out of the girl’s grasp. The girl was taken by surprise, and she screamed a little. Her scream scared the horse, who had been rather skittish since they entered the gorge.

Then, everything happened too fast.

The horse stamped nervously, and one of its back legs missed the ground, going over the edge instead. Then, it panicked, rearing to try to get back up.

The princess screamed, and Bruce reached out quickly, his hand catching the girl’s, and he managed to pull her back onto the path.

But then, the ground under Joker’s horse broke, and the horse slipped off, falling down into the darkness.

Joker was tossed off, and his hand whipped out to grab the ledge, but he was too far. His wide green eyes locked with Bruce’s as he fell down into the darkness, hundreds of feet below.

“NO!” Bruce screamed. His yell echoed through the canyon. His heart was pounding loudly. He waited for the tugging feeling that would bring Joker back to him, back onto the path, but the feeling never came.

He stared down into the dark for a very long time, and still, nothing. The entire gorge had gone silent, save for the faint sounds of the churning river below, and the sniffling of the princesses.

Bruce waited and waited.

But Joker was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have written this entire story backwards. I planned it out, then wrote the first two chapters, the last chapter, the second to last chapter, the third chapter, and then the fourth chapter. It's really weird, but I'm kinda really in love with this story. I think it might be one of the most brilliant pieces I've ever written, in the sense of symbolism and how the characters develop and discover themselves throughout the story. I'm so fucking proud of this, honestly.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this, and leave me a comment! One last chapter before this concludes!
> 
> <3


	6. And They Lived Happily Ever After

Bruce led the princesses back to the castle in a numb daze. They ran to their parents in tears, hugging each other in the middle of the courtyard. The queen was also teary, smoothing back the hair of her daughters, telling them how worried she had been. The king was more put together, but his eyes were shining and a huge grin stretched across his face.

“Thank you so much,” the queen gushed, dabbing her eyes, standing up straighter. She smiled at Bruce, looking him up and down. “And as promised, you get a reward for your gallant act. Which of my daughters would you like to marry?”

Bruce blinked at her, not quite processing the question. His eyes drifted from person to person.

“Well?” the queen prompted. “They both seem to be quite smitten with you.”

The princesses gave him shy smiles and peeked out from behind their father.

Bruce found his voice. “I- I can’t,” he managed. “Thank you, but… I don’t want anything.”

“Don’t want anything?” The king said, his eyes narrowing. “Do you not think my daughters are good enough? Why, you-”

“No, Your Majesty,” Bruce said. “Your daughters are beautiful, but I do not wish to marry yet. Thank you.”

“Then accept money! Land! Whatever you want!” the king protested.

Bruce swallowed hard, looking over his shoulder at the road he came from, the one that led back into the forest. “May I… May I keep the horse? And the sword, please.”

“Is that all?” the king asked, flabbergasted. “There is nothing else you wish for?”

Bruce shook his head and managed a small, very fake smile. “No, thank you. I… I’ll be on my way now.”

He turned and staggered away from the reunited royal family. He made it to the white horse, petting the horse’s thick neck, leaning his forehead against its soft coat for a moment. He could not believe it. Joker was dead. He knew that Dr. Highland’s machine had been made a bit too real, and he had been working on fixing that part for a while, but he did not think it was _this_ real.

Not real enough for death to happen, at least.

Bruce mounted the horse, throwing the castle one last look, before spurring his horse back down the dirt road. He comes to a split in the road, one going into the forest, the other to the village Joker and Bruce had come across on the first day.

Bruce slowed, staring down each path for a moment before turning his horse down the path towards the village.

He makes it to the inn by nightfall, tying the white horse in the stable of the inn before walking in. The innkeeper’s wife had been folding towels while talking to her husband. They both looked up as he walked in.

The innkeeper’s wife gasped in delight, abandoning the towels and rushing over. “Oh, my boy! You have returned so soon! Did you go to the castle? Did you find the princesses?” She then wrinkled her nose. “You need a bath as well. And new clothes. No matter, come along. You must be tired.”

She turned and started leading him upstairs. “Where is your friend? The one with the hair the color of clovers.”

Bruce’s breath hitched. No one else had mentioned Joker’s missing presence. It was as if Bruce was the only one who had noticed that he was gone. The king, queen, and even the princesses did not bring him up at all. But when the innkeeper’s wife brought him up, it suddenly felt so much more real.

When Bruce did not answer, the wife turned around, looking at him. Her face turned sympathetic. “Oh, honey…”

“He’s dead,” Bruce whispered. His voice sounded broken. “He’s… gone.”

She gave him a hug, patting his back. “I’m so sorry. But are you sure he is dead? Did you see him die?” She pulled back.

Bruce’s face contorted into a frown. “He fell off of a precipice into a river.”

The innkeeper’s wife smiled, her eyes twinkling with knowledge Bruce did not know. “Ah, there, you see. He may not be dead. Your friend seems like a survivor. True heroes don’t die so easily around here, my boy. Maybe your mission is not over yet,” she said, opening one of the doors and gesturing to Bruce. “Now sleep,” she said before leaving.

Bruce stumbled in, his mind whirling. Maybe he did not know much about fairytales, but he did watch enough Disney movies to know that they all ended with a happily ever after for the protagonist. And Bruce felt that he could safely assume he was the protagonist. And Bruce was determined not to be happy with Joker dead or missing.

He made up his mind. He needed to find Joker, dead or alive.

He bolted out of the room, running down the stairs. The innkeeper’s eyebrows rose. “Leaving so soon?” he asked.

Bruce smiled. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, good sir. You and your wife are a miracle,” he said before running out. He unties the horse, jumping on before galloping off towards the magical forest.

~

Bruce rides for three days and three nights, almost nonstop. Realistically, it made no sense, but he was in a fairytale, so the impossible was possible and logic was forgotten.

The previously pretty magical forest had changed into something out of a nightmare. The trees all looked the same, twisted and reaching their clawed branches over the small, rocky path. They tore at Bruce, scratching through clothes and skin. Wolves howled every night, scaring his horse a lot. Even during the day, the forest felt cold, and it was a lot darker. The sunlight could not penetrate the canopy the forest had built. At one time, a panther came at Bruce, out of the darkness, scaring his horse off, and leaving Bruce to fend for himself.

He managed to wound the panther with the sword, a weapon he was not yet completely comfortable with. Bruce walked the rest of the night, his heart pounding in his ears as he listened to the wolves howl, sometimes closer than others.

He found his horse grazing outside of a cottage made of sweets. Bruce found a fat witch inside the cottage, an equally fat boy, and a skinny little girl in a cage. When the witch’s back was turned, Bruce pushed her in the oven and rescued the kids. They ran off into the woods without a word of thanks.

Bruce never saw them again, but he continued on his journey. He was determined to make it out of the fairytale alive, with the knowledge of what happened to Joker. He seemed to have a lot of pent up anger and frustration that he turned into determination. There was also a lingering sense of sadness Bruce could not shake.

Finally, as the sun climbed high into the sky after the third night, the forest gradually changed again. The threatening roars of the river Bruce heard before turned into the pleasant trickling of a stream. The caws of ravens became the music of songbirds. The howling of the wolves became the chittering of squirrels and chipmunks.

And almost as soon as Bruce noticed the difference, he came across a clearing in the forest.

In the middle of the perfect circle of trees, with a ray of sunlight shining upon him, like a spotlight, was Joker. He lay, motionless and unmoving in a gold and glass coffin. He was surrounded by beautiful flowers, and a crown of pretty blue flowers sat in his hair.

Bruce dismounted, tying his horse to one of the lower branches. He walked carefully into the clearing, and it was like the entire forest was holding its breath. Birds landed on branches all around the ring, a couple deer came out of nowhere and stood at the edge. Squirrels, rabbits, and even a skunk surrounded the clearing, watching Bruce slowly approach Joker.

But Bruce barely noticed all that. He could not take his eyes of Joker. He was barely even sure if this _was_ Joker at all.

The man lying in the glass coffin had blond hair, a white yellow-ish color, like corn silk. It was thin and reflected the sunlight like gossamer. Joker’s skin was flawless, literally. The rough scars that had marred his face previously were gone. His cheeks were smooth, and no sign of the previous injuries showed. But neither did any spot of color.

Bruce carefully lifted the glass off of the coffin, setting it on the soft grass. He sat down very slowly, taking Joker’s hand in his. He felt for a pulse. He found none.

Bruce knew that Joker had a nervous habit of biting his nails, but his nails were perfect, and his skin warmed by the sun. Bruce brushed flowers off of the Joker and the coffin. They fell to the ground silently.

Bruce slowly reached over with a slightly shaking hand. He stroked Joker’s cheek, feeling the soft skin for himself. His hand took Joker’s chin in his hand and tipped his head up a bit. The flower crown shifted.

Bruce leaned over him, stopping a couple inches from his face, taking in Joker’s sleeping, or maybe dead, face. Bruce really hoped Joker was not dead. This was a fairytale. It had to give Bruce a happy ending. It just _had_ to.

Bruce closed the distance between them, gently kissing Joker.

He had expected Joker’s lips to feel dry, since he had been lying in the clearing for who knows how long, but Joker’s lips were soft but firm. Bruce let his eyes slide closed, waiting for Joker’s eyes to snap open, for laughter to fill the forest, for _anything_.

But even when Bruce pulled back and held his breath, he saw nothing. Joker did not move.

Bruce could feel his panic growing. He quickly kissed Joker again, a little rougher.

Yet still, there was no reaction. Joker stayed as still and lifeless as before.

“Damnit, Joker!” Bruce snapped. He slapped Joker across his perfect face, hard. The animals all scattered.

Then, Joker’s eyes snapped open. He started laughing, the sound reaching hysterical pitches, but it soothed the conflicting emotions in Bruce. “I’m just kidding,” Joker said, sitting up. The flowers fell off of him. “Just wanted to see what would happen if you thought it didn’t work,” he said, hooking both his arms around Bruce’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Joker smirked. “My hero,” he teased before kissing Bruce.

Bruce grabbed Joker and lifted him into his arms without breaking the kiss. Joker yelped with a laugh, grabbing Bruce’s neck a little tighter. Bruce spun him in a circle, a huge smile growing on his face. Joker was alive, he was alive, and he was safe.

Joker giggled, grabbing his flower crown and adjusting it on his head. Then, Bruce set him down on the forest floor. Joker let his bare feet touch the green grass, wiggling his toes for a moment. Then, he smiled up at Bruce, who smiled back so hard.

Bruce grabbed Joker and dipped him suddenly, pausing as Joker laughed quietly and pulled Bruce down into another kiss. A slow, burning kiss that said so many unspoken words. Bruce knew in the back of his head it was not supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be enemies. This was not the real world. Because in the real world, there would be consequences for his actions. But this was his fairytale. It was _their_ fairytale.

So Bruce shoved those thoughts away and kissed Joker with the fervor he reserved for their fights. And that moment was a perfect fairytale moment. The dark knight got his happy ending, saved his prince of crime, and Bruce finally understood what a classic fairytale ended with.

A true love’s kiss.

This realization brought a smile to Bruce’s lips. Joker felt the movement, and pulled back for a moment, a bit breathless.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

Bruce laughed and shook his head, smiling back down at Joker. It was all so ironic. “Nothing,” he said. He stared at Joker for a moment longer before pulling him back into a long deserved and hard earned kiss, letting his eyes close in bliss.

Gradually, the gentle sun warmed breeze disappeared from Bruce’s arms. The smell of sweet violets disappeared along with the chirping of songbirds and the trickling of the merry stream.

The air was now cold and sterile. The gentle yellow sunlight was replaced by the sharp white light of a laboratory that pierced through Bruce’s closed eyelids.

His eyes snapped open, and he pulled back. He watched as Joker’s eyes opened slowly, looking up at him. Then, Bruce lifted his head, and he froze.

They were completely surrounded by guns pointed straight at them, held by people with the dark blue uniforms of the GCPD. And standing outside of the ring of officers was Jim Gordon, eyes wide, mustache twitching.

Bruce blinked back, his mouth dropping open a little.

Then, Joker giggled. He unhooked an arm from around Bruce’s neck and patted his cheek. “Well, Bats, looks like you’ve got some explaining to do. That, or you’ll be paying off these good officers for their silence.” Then, he extracted himself from Bruce’s arms. He stretched and looked around at every officer, as their eyes shifted between him and Bruce Wayne.

He grinned wider and hooked an arm around Bruce’s waist, and adjusts his blue flower crown. He looked at Bruce, whose eyes darted from Gordon to the exits to the guns and back to Gordon.

Joker licked his lips, subconsciously going to tease at the scars that were no longer there. He grinned wide, revealing his white teeth.

“Think of it as a sequel to our fairytale, Batsy. This’ll be fun, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after. 
> 
> The End. 
> 
> No, there won't be a sequel to this, despite the ending. This is it, and I've written enough fluff to last me a lifetime, I think. I could not help myself with the ending, though. I don't know why, but mustache twitching makes me crack up every time, so I just had to add it in there. And I couldn't decide how it would end up playing out, but it would lead to a huge problem for sure, but Joker just can't help himself, can he? I really am proud of the ending, lol. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this, as I immensely enjoyed writing it. Leave me a comment! <333
> 
> ~Jessica (づ￣ ³￣)づ


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